


Auto

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Ficlet, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 13:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15244845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Cindy fixes Prompto.





	Auto

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Prompto is an eacaped MT with prosthetic limbs that need repairs. Cindy is the person he can trust to fix them. +++Cindy chewing him out for not taking better care of himself. +++Prompto damaging his own limbs to have an excuse to visit.” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/5690.html?thread=10570042#cmt10570042).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

“You know, I make some pretty decent jewels,” he tries, but Cindy prefers the gil in her pocket and only offers an indulgent smile. Dino finally picks up her not-so-subtle hints and sights, “Fine, fine; I can take a hint.” Or so he says. He walks back around his newly polished car, climbs in, and waves to her from the driver’s seat. Cindy offers a half-hearted wave back and steps out of the way as he pulls off her lot. There was nothing wrong with his silver sports car, but he wouldn’t be the first person to grab any excuse to see her. 

Still, his gil’s good, and with how slow the roads out of Insomnia have gotten, it’s a relief to feel its weight at her side. She trails back to the open garage and the sweet shade it offers. The sun beats down behind her, glaring off the pavement and catching on all the various alloys scattered about Hammerhead. She got another junker in yesterday, and it’s parts are already everywhere.

The garage isn’t as empty as she left it. As soon as she’s inside, she catches the faint echo of the chocobo tune, quietly humming near the back. When Cindy calls, “Howdy,” the singer nearly jumps out of his skin.

Maybe ‘skin’ isn’t the right word. Prompto hastily sets down the can he was looking at, offering her a shaken smile that looks every bit as _human_ as all four of his limbs. If she hadn’t gotten a peek inside already, she wouldn’t believe anything else. But she has, and when he moves towards her, she sees the thin seam that’s come apart under his vest.

“Have you got a minute?” he asks, and before she can answer: “I’ve got gil—”

“How about one on the house,” she offers, because times must be as bad for him as her—or worse. She doesn’t think the Empire ever paid its MTs, and work must be hard to come by for an escaped one. If he even is that. She’s got her suspicions. Surely he’s _some_ kind of product of the Empire. But he grins at her like a loyal citizen, her his Lucian queen, and she can’t find it in her to be afraid. She’s never seen the gun holstered at his hip pointed at anything, but she knows if _commissioned_ MTs did storm in, he’d use it to defend her in a heartbeat.

When she gestures at a nearby crate, Prompto scrambles to obey the silent order. He sits down and looks up at her, sunshine-yellow hair brushed into a wild mess and his sun-kissed freckles dimpled with his smile. He just keeps smiling until she puts her hands on her hips and prompts, “Well?”

“Oh! Right, sorry,” he bursts, blushing hot and spluttering, like no machine should ever manage. But then, maybe he’s not _all_ machine—she’s never pressed the issue. “Uh, I mean, thank you! But I can pay, it’s fine—I was just on a hunt for Takka, and I think I messed up my arm...” He shrugs his shoulders, turning them, and she leans down to get a better look—one’s definitely come out of the socket. It shouldn’t be too difficult.

As this is his third problem this week, she can’t help but scold, “You really need to be more careful.” She putters off to fetch one of her repair kits: she has one she’s put together just for him, and while she carries it back, she continues, “You’re lucky you haven’t damaged anything to the point where it’ll need replacing—I haven’t got extra limbs in stock! You need to learn to take better care of yourself!”

Prompto nods, looking thoroughly chastised. “S... sorry...”

Kit open, she kneels down next to him. One of the screws near his armpit has been severed, so she has to fish out the broken piece before she starts unscrewing what’s left. “Sorry won’t cut it, Mister. You’re a good photographer, I know, but ain’t no photo worth that.” 

Plucking a replacement screw out of one of the little baggies in the corner, Cindy sets in the new one. She’s already cataloged and ordered all the little things she _can_ replace, but if he winds up tearing the flesh-like covering or any of the custom-fit pieces, he’ll be screwed. When the socket’s secure again, she gets out the clamp to hold it in place while she wrenches the shoulder-plate back in. It clicks mechanically as it sets, and Prompto lets out a small whimper. She doesn’t know how much of it he can _feel_ , but it makes her offer a quieter, “Sorry.”

He mutters, “I’m fine.” But he might just be trying to look brave for her. 

Finished, Cindy traces her thumb along the seam and does a quick check, rotating his bicep slowly back and forth, but everything seems in working order. She makes sure of it before she gets back to her feet and announces, “Good as new.”

Prompto tests his arm himself. “Wow... thanks!” He looks up at her, but his mouth wavers. He admits, “You did it pretty fast...” And he actually looks a tad disappointed.

Dino’s ‘unknown engine troubles’ flitter through her mind again, and it narrows her eyes. She scrutinizes Prompto for a moment, which makes him look just on the verge of squirming, until she crosses her arms over her chest and warns, “Prompto, you better not be hurting yourself for an excuse to come and see me.”

Instantly, Prompto’s bright red. “N-no, I didn’t—!”

“Don’t lie to me, Mister.”

Prompto’s mouth clamps shut. Cindy sighs. It’s genuinely hard to be mad at him. He’s just so darn _cute_ , in both senses of the word.

She tells him, “I mean it. If you want a reason to visit, why don’t you go take me some nice pictures of cars?” Though she never quite gets the itch to leave Hammerhead, she does often wonder what they’re driving down in Galdin or even across the sea, and she gets the feeling he goes all over. The garage could also use some better prints on the walls. But mostly, it’s just an easy thing to ask for.

Prompto jumps up and salutes her like she’s ordered flawless diamonds. “Pictures of cars; got it!” Cindy’s barely gotten out a laugh before he’s scampered off. She knows that he’ll be back.

She shakes her head and puts the repair kit away, unable to stop grinning.


End file.
